


The World went Quiet

by tatooedlaura



Series: Life, Part 3 [27]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 07:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14612220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: For one brief moment, the world actually stopped spinning, tilting slightly to the left and shifting time in the process, aging her 10 years in the span of 1 … 2 …, “if you …” but he’d already hung up, leaving dead air and fear in its wake.





	The World went Quiet

For one brief moment, the world actually stopped spinning, tilting slightly to the left and shifting time in the process, aging her 10 years in the span of 1 … 2 …, “if you …” but he’d already hung up, leaving dead air and fear in its wake.

Recalling their number, misdialing twice, she took a deep breath, panic hovering, threatening, but tamping it down for very near future use, and finally got them on the line. The moment she heard Frohike’s voice, “turn on Mulder’s tracker.”

In the Lair, Frohike didn’t question, simply yelling at Langley to start looking for Mulder; Langley not asking, just doing, both reactions an incredible testament to their friendship with Mulder and Scully. Once Langley nodded, Frohike got back to Scully, “what happened?”

Her voice began suffered the effects of panic, rising in octave, dropping again, cracking, anger and tears beginning to battle for supremacy, “he went out for tape and Krycek called on his phone telling me he didn’t want us forgetting about him and this time, Mulder wouldn’t just be on the balcony.”

Already standing, pulling on a coat, finding keys to the van, “Langley, stay here, find him, Byers, we’re going to Scully’s.”

Byers had been standing on the other side of a bank of computers and was already heading to the door, “I’ll drive.”

&&&&&&

Scully was still, oddly, standing in the living room, holding the phone, when Frohike knocked once, then twice, before using his key, the precious key he was given over Maggie, Skinner, brothers … the one spare key they let out of their sight and made his keyring heavy, weight of the world materialized in notched metal. “Scully? Are you in here? It’s us.”

They thought they knew what the term ‘dead silence’ meant, what if felt like but somehow, once they began climbing the steps to the apartment, all ambient sound seemed to disappear, hum of fridge, buzz of lights, sound of breath, gone as they felt fear they hadn’t before.

They found her, center of the quiet, air heavy around her, “Scully?”

Eyes lifted from their random corner stare to meet Byers, “did you find him?”

Figuring honesty was better than tiptoeing, “Langley called a minute ago. He can’t get a lock on Mulder. Either they found, removed and destroyed the tracker or he’s someplace the signal can’t get out.”

“Maybe they don’t work.”

“He pinged you once to check. You are right where you’re supposed to be.” Moving towards her, Frohike set a hand on her forearm, “you should sit down.”

“Sitting isn’t going to find him, Melvin and neither is talking about failed tech,” shaking the hand loose, “what do we do?”

“We go to Maggie’s for now. I called Skinner, told him an old friend was coming to dinner. He’ll be waiting for us,” Frohike was already heading back to the door, “so let’s go.”

Byers, however, stopped him with a word, “guns.”

“What?”

He looked from Frohike to Scully, “we need your guns. I’m not doing this ride without adequate protection.”

Hating to admit it, her hands had enough shake in them to be dangerous with a weapon, “I can’t fire a gun right now. I can’t guarantee I’d hit what I aimed for.”

Straightening his lapels, running a finger under his collar, “they aren’t for you. I will ride shotgun. Literally.”

Honest to God, she forgot her problems for a momentous micron of time, “you know how to fire a gun?”

“I have been practicing when time allows and I will say, I am very good. I have a license, training and I want Mulder back, all of which I will rely upon to get you where you need to be.”

Not about to argue with the steel determination in his eyes, she walked past him, “come with me.”

Arsenal out, weapons selected and in the car five minutes later, it was possibly the most tense ride Scully had ever taken in the VW bus, sitting on the floor as instructed by the tight-jawed Byers and the quietly agreeing Frohike, out of sight to anyone aiming for her.

Frohike didn’t have to knock, Skinner staring out the window, door open the minute he saw them pull up, having dropped what he was working on, literally, after hearing one of the preset and he thought fairly silly up until now catch phrases Mulder and the gang of three had worked out. Scully was hustled inside, off the front porch and before she could draw a breath to explain, Frohike and Byers moved from protection mode to ‘you need to fucking call every person you know and find Mulder’ mode. Scully, for her part, held on until Maggie showed up, then, face crumpling, she went from stoic agent to panicked wife, tears shining as she fell into her mother’s outstretched arms.

It took a few minutes but eventually, Skinner managed to extract exact wording from her, then get the balcony story from her, then the tracking segment, before he, standing there in work shirt and suit pants, heavy shoes still in place, gun under his arm, crouched over, meeting his agent’s eyes, “I will get him home.”

&&&&&&

A set of deep breaths and a long swearing string later, she was sitting at the kitchen table, all blinds around her closed, at her request, staring at the laptop Frohike had provided for her, watching CCTV footage fly past her eyes, both facial recognition software and her ability to recognize his unique walk anywhere, searching for any sign of Mulder.

She tried to leave, get in her mother’s car, go searching for him. She’d tried to bully Skinner into taking her out looking for him, using guilt as her only tool until finally, amidst his ninth phone call and his second reasonably presented argument to Kersh that Mulder was not just gallivanting around town without leaving a note for Scully, cruising bars and picking up women, he finally stopped talking into his phone, covered the mouthpiece, looked her directly in the eye, “will you sit your ass down and give me five minutes? That baby is not ready to come out yet and if you keep this up, you’re going to stress him into making an early appearance. Wouldn’t you prefer Mulder be here for that instead of him?” pointing at Frohike.

Frohike was too busy to listen so any offense dissipated in the air across the kitchen as Skinner tightened his lips and flared nostrils, ignoring the yelling from the other end of the phone line, waiting for her to choose her next course of action.

She would hate that he was right later on but for the moment, she nodded and sat, Byers presenting her with the computer and instructions to look for him.

She was going to kill Krycek.

Simple and dead.

And she would enjoy it.


End file.
